


Waking Nightmare

by vinegardog



Category: Farscape
Genre: Humor, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8179031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinegardog/pseuds/vinegardog





	

 

 

Written for SC94 – I, Scorpius   
  
Set in the indeterminate short time between the end of the We Are So Screwed Trilogy and the time when Scorpius is ejected from Moya in   
Bad Timing.   
  
Rating: PG  
  
Word count: about 1600  
  
The characters aren’t mine, just borrowing them to play for a little bit.  
  
This is silly but I felt like I had to make a contribution to my own challenge and this is all my tired brain could produce (sorry).  I would have loved to come up with something way better to honour one of my favourite characters.  Oh well.  
  
Thanks to A Damned Scientist for the read through and the suggested ending, which, although way more cruel than mine, is also funnier!  
  
 **Waking Nightmare (PG)**  
  
It was the middle of the rest cycle and all was calm on Moya until…  
  
“Scorpius? Is that you Scorpius? What are you doing down there?  How did you escape your cell? I will raise the alarm with the rest of the crew unless you leave Moya’s neural cluster immediately!” Pilot threatened, indignant at the unexpected invasion of Moya’s vital control centre by the interloper, who, mostly uninvited and unwanted, had made Moya his home now for several monens and who was at that moment sneaking around the ship, up to no good no doubt while the rest of the crew was not around to stop him.  
  
“Pilot of Moya, this will only take a microt.  There is no need to alert anyone, I assure you.” Scorpius almost pleaded in most unlikely fashion for the arrogant being he was known to be.  
  
“What exactly are you doing?” Pilot asked, agitated and annoyed “That is Moya’s communication control system you are attempting to access, I can see it from my console here! Cease what you are doing, Scorpius, or…”  
  
“I will not harm Moya, Pilot, I promise.  Five more microts is all I ask of you!” Scorpius interrupted Pilot’s tirade, anxiety now quite evident in his voice.  
  
“Stop right now!  I demand it! You should know that I am aware that you have already tampered with that very same system in the past, unbeknownst to me at the time.  I will not allow further modifications to be made to it by you!” Pilot had felt immensely guilty for that lack of vigilance on his part when Crichton had pointed out to him what had happened with the comms; the mortification of it still stung and helped give his voice quite intimidating venom.  
  
“I apologise, Pilot.  I did indeed tamper with it in the past.  But please understand: that was for a good reason, this time it is for a VITAL one!”  Scorpius tried to underline the importance of his clandestine actions by injecting wily persuasion into each and every one of his words.  
  
“I don’t care about your reasons, Scorpius.  Desist immediately from whatever you are doing.  This is your last warning!”    
  
“I am just putting things back the way they were, Pilot.  Surely both you and this Leviathan should be pleased with that.  That is all I am doing: reversing what I did in the first place.  That is surely allowed, is it not?”  Scorpius again tried to persuade Pilot about the harmlessness, even usefulness, of his actions.  
  
But Pilot was not to be swayed: “Commander Crichton guessed you might attempt further tinkering with that particular system and instructed me to stop you no matter what, should that occur.  I am therefore blocking access to the comms from the neural cluster as of… now!” Pilot’s claws flew across the console carrying out his threat “You are now powerless to make any changes to it, Scorpius, so you might as well give up and…leave now empty-handed!” He concluded with snarky satisfaction.   
    
“John Crichton is the most irritating creature I have ever had the displeasure to meet!” Scorpius snapped with a snarl and a so very Scarran flaring of temper.  
  
“I do not entirely disagree with that.” Pilot conceded “But I promised I would abide by his wishes and that is exactly what I have done.” Pilot was immovable in his loyalty to John Crichton.  
  
Although humiliating and unprecedented, Scorpius realized that the only course of action left to him at this point was to be pitifully truthful in a last ditch attempt to sway Pilot into helping him: “Pilot please listen to me.  Since Officer Sun, Commander Crichton and I have returned from Katratzi, I have not been able to sleep. Not at all, NOT EVEN FOR A MICROT.  Every rest cycle is a nightmarish repetition of the previous one!  I fear I will lose my mind unless you let me complete these modifications.  And my mind is all I’ve got! I have never begged for anything before but I beg this of you now: Please, please let me switch Crichton’s comm link to my neural implant OFF!”  
  
Scorpius could not see Pilot from where he was standing below him in the neural cluster, but had he been able to, he would have seen a satisfied little smile crease the creature’s lips and a spark of amusement light his yellow eyes: “You have my sympathy,  Scorpius, you really do.  But… you brought this upon yourself when you first manipulated the comms to satisfy your desire to spy on Commander Crichton and that is now your downfall. It is a misfortune of your own making and you have nobody else to blame but yourself.”  
  
Scorpius however was too wrapped up in his nightmarish plight to reply to Pilot’s lecture in any coherent manner or to even just acknowledge that yes, Pilot was right, he was indeed the only one responsible for his own current miserable predicament.  Suddenly realization dawned on him that he would now not get his way, he would not get to sever the audio link to Crichton – the damned Human! -, so he slowly let himself slump-sit to the floor of the neural cluster, clutched his head with his gloved hands and in a haunted, shaky voice recalled out loud the torture he had been enduring night after night after night for the last weeken: “You should hear the constant grunting and moaning and banging, Pilot.  It’s never ending, it’s excruciating.  She is bad enough but what he is, it’s… it’s inexpressible.  He surely must be doing it on purpose, to torture me, there is no other explanation!  No mating could be that prolonged and sustained and incessant and… loud! Oh so very loud, Pilot, so so very loud!”  
  
Pilot nodded his big head in sympathetic understanding: “Although hard to comprehend, I believe that that might well be their normal mating noise level.  I have heard Dominar Rygel XVI complain about it more than once from the time he spent on Talyn:  the recounts of his ordeals are very similar to yours, Scorpius and jut as harrowing.”  
  
“But… but it’s disturbing and it’s … it’s unnatural! I fear it will haunt me to my dying day!”   
It had taken less than a weeken of forced insomnia for Scorpius to acquire a new appreciation of the long term damage that mental torture brings its victims and he firmly vowed to himself that, if he ever made it back to civilization alive and compos mentis – and that was a big if - he would not deploy the Aurora Chair in as cavalier a manner as he had in the past, even on his worst enemy.     
  
Knowing what John Crichton had been through in the last few cycles at the hands of the broken creature now sitting exhausted and defeated on the floor of Moya’s neural cluster, Pilot couldn’t help himself from making a final snide comment on behalf of the Human whom he had come to think of as family: “One of John Crichton’s favourite sayings might apply in this situation, Scorpius, ‘you reap what you sow’.  Commander Crichton condemns you to… a life of sleeplessness for as long as you reside on this ship.”  
  
__________  
  
 _Two solar days later_  
  
As Scorpius - Sikozu by his side - floated slowly in space from Moya towards the Command Carrier after being unceremoniously ejected by his Human nemesis, he made sure vociferously to express his dismay at the unfairness and inadvisability of such action, as he’d be expected to do.  However the reality was that a part of him, a very large part in all truth, rejoiced in the knowledge that uninterrupted, blissful sleep was just ahead of him, almost within his grasp now; it was so close he could taste it.   
  
__________  
  
 _Two arns later_  
  
With a beatific smile on his thin lips, Scorpius finally relaxed his tense, fatigued body; let his eyelids droop and slumber possess his weary limbs.  The last coherent thought to flit through his mind before blessed sleep overcame him was that, tomorrow, without fail, he would make sure to reward with largesse faithful, delightfully dull Braca who was currently stroking his brow and sweetly singing him a Sebacean lullaby.  
  
The thought had just only floated past his fading consciousness, when suddenly Scorpius’s eyes shot open again and he sat up with a start.  He stared at poor startled Braca as a whimper escaped his lips. No! Surely it could not be! Not again! He refused to believe that that noise could be back, not the same one, not here on the Command Carrier! And yet it was: moans, grunts, giggling groans, and the banging of headboard and body parts against bulkheads.  It was loud, just as loud as it had been on the Leviathan, and it echoed mercilessly around his head, between his ears.  Damn the Human, his woman and the receiver implanted in his head! Just how far did he need to get away from those two to secure some rest?!  
  
The end


End file.
